The transition from the blood-stained soil of the One Year War to the fragile peace of UC 0080 was not merely a change of dates; for me, it was a descent out of a long, violent darkness. This is my record of those final days—the transition from a "monster" of the Federation back into a human being.
January 1st, 0080. The new year arrived not with a celebration, but with the cold efficiency of military restructuring. The Black Dog Squad—a name that once stood for camaraderie but eventually became synonymous with war crimes—was dead. Our leader, Renato Germi, was Missing in Action, and I was reassigned to a new unit: Witch-hunt.
I stood in the hangar, watching the mechanic scrape the old Black Dog emblem off the left shoulder of my GM Spartan. It felt like skin being peeled away. Beside me, Mark stood with his new RX-77-2 Guncannon; I had ordered him to dispose of his GM Sniper Custom. We needed to burn the evidence of what we had become.
"There you are, Lieutenant," Alleyne's voice broke my trance. "Captain Barry Abbot is looking for you. It's an emergency".
The briefing room was thick with tension. Captain Barry Abbot, Lilith Aiden, and Mark were already waiting. The "Brass" had officially disbanded the Black Dog squad, but their crimes—war crimes—could not be ignored. Alleyne's grandfather had personally ordered me to eliminate the squad for their atrocities.
The mission was a grim irony. The Federation's official goal was to seize Cape Canaveral, the last gathering point for Zeon's "Noisy Fairy" forces trying to escape to space. But our real target was the ghosts of our past: the remnants of the Black Dog Squad who hadn't been with Renato. They were heading to Cocoa Beach to destroy the civilian launch sites—not for strategy, but for the sheer thrill of slaughter.
"Listen up!" Captain Barry's voice crackled over the comms as our Medea transport banked toward the Florida coast. "Don't let those Black Dog bastards touch that site. Stop them at all cost!".
"Understood, Captain!" we shouted in unison.
The drop was a blur of heat and adrenaline. Dropping from the sky, I felt a strange, terrifying excitement—a "falling sensation" that reminded me I was still alive. My parachute deployed automatically at the limit, and we slammed into the sand of the launch site just as the enemy arrived.
The battle was visceral. The Black Dogs approached in GM Commands and Spartans, their communication channels open, filled with the same mocking laughter that had once defined our unit.
"Damn you, Mercer!" a voice screamed through the static as our heat sabers clashed. "You betray us for the Witch-hunt?!".
"It's not betrayal," I replied, my voice devoid of emotion as I leveled my minigun at his cockpit. "It's an execution".
I pulled the trigger until his machine exploded. We fought until the sand was scorched and the screaming stopped. For Mark, it was revenge for the horrors of San Francisco; for me, it was the final erasure of the men who had looked at me with nothing but lust and cruelty.
As the smoke cleared, a broadcast began to loop on all frequencies: The Earth Federation and the Principality of Zeon have reached a peace agreement.
"...the Earth Federation and the Principality of Zeon have reached a peace agreement...".
The war was over. The One Year War had ended. But for some, the hatred ran too deep continue the violence. At the Cape Canaveral base, Federation units were still closing in on the "Noisy-Fairy" squad, ignoring the ceasefire.
We rushed to the main base where Federation soldiers were still harassing a lone Zeon unit—the Noisy Fairy. Among them sat a battered, black GM Spartan. Renato Germi had survived the previous mission, only to be cornered here.
Captain Barry's voice thundered over the open channel, "YOU BASTARDS! DO FEDERATION SOLDIERS INTEND TO DEGRADE THEMSELVES INTO MERE CRIMINALS? THE WAR IS OVER!".
Mark followed, his voice shaking with rage, "LOWER YOUR FUCKING WEAPONS! THIS IS AN ORDER!".
I watched as Lilith Aiden climbed out of her Gundam Pixy to meet the Zeon pilot, Alma Steiner. In the shadow of the giant machines, two rivals shared a name and a moment of humanity. Renato, however, would never see the peace. He died in his cockpit, a victim of the very violence he had cultivated.
Two days later, the world began to move on. Mark went home; Alleyne returned to her family. I stood in the hangar, looking at my GM Spartan one last time. It was a gift from Sam, who had died in California. "Take a rest," I whispered to the machine. "It's over".
Aaron Smith was waiting for me. He didn't take me to a military base or a victory parade. He took me to Switzerland, a neutral paradise of crisp air and towering mountains. Sitting in a quiet cafe in Zurich, the peace felt heavy, almost suffocating after years of gunfire.
"Aaron," I said, my tone turning serious. "There is something I need to tell you".
He set down his espresso, sensing the shift in my energy.
"When we go back, I've decided to enter a one-year rehabilitation program," I told him. "I won't be allowed to communicate with anyone. Not even you".
Aaron looked stunned. "A year? Why, Lydia?".
"Because this isn't the real me," I whispered, looking at my hands—hands that had killed so many. "My life since I was fifteen has been a hell of my parents' making. I want to change. I want to be a human being again... for you. And for myself".
The silence between us lasted an eternity until Aaron reached out and took my hand. He smiled—a sad, beautiful smile of understanding. "I'll miss you, Lydia. But I'll be waiting for you. One year from now".
My journey didn't end with the peace treaty. It began in a rehabilitation center, where I would spend the next twelve months scrubbing the "monster" out of my soul.
January 1st, 0081. That is the date I am fighting for now. I will return not just as a Federation soldier, but as a woman who can finally look at a clear sky without seeing the flash of a beam rifle.
Wait for me, Aaron. I'm coming home.
To be continue.